Survivor: New Mexico
by roar526
Summary: Mary and Marshall's annual wilderness weekend becomes more than a test of their survival skills, but a test of their partnership and friendship as well. And what happens when things take an unexpected turn for the worse?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and no infringement is intended. We're just having fun!**

**A/N: Huge thank you to Bujyo, as always, for listening, cheerleading and/or needling. I know I can count on you to provide whatever I need when I need it. ;) And to RJ Lupin's Kat, who challenged me to take that next step. I can't thank you enough for the advice and stellar proof reading.**

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**Survival skills:**

techniques a person may use in a dangerous situation (e.g. natural disasters) to save themselves or to save others (also see bushcraft.) Generally speaking, these techniques are meant to provide the basic necessities for human life: water, food, shelter, habitat, and the need to _think straight_, to _signal for help_, to _navigate safely_, to _avoid unpleasant interactions with animals and plants_, and for first aid. In addition, survival skills are often basic ideas and abilities that ancient humans had to use for thousands of years, so these skills are partially a reenactment of history. (Wikipedia)

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"…set?" Marshall dully inquired.

"Yes, damn it, I'm not five," Mary barked back.

Marshall didn't look at her… didn't have to. The slight shake of his head as he went about readjusting his boot straps spoke volumes. She was acting childish. And the failure to meet her gaze confirmed his unwillingness to make allowances for the immaturity.

_God, his non-answers piss me off even more than his never ending ones. Why the hell is that?_

For the past month, they'd been working under the pretense that all was well. Laughable, really, except that it was far from funny. No conversation between them beyond work. The banter, the trivia, the jokes…gone. Mary had long surpassed her breaking point, emotions raw and exposed. Part of her wanted to kick and scream and shoot something until there was nothing left.

That part was staging a coup.

"We've been doing this idiotic trip for seven freakin' years; I think I know the drill by now," she said, voicing annoyance instead of the truth. Their survival weekends had always been one of the highlights of the year. Information her partner didn't need to know.

"Riiight," Marshall crooned condescendingly, "like the no guns or cell phones rule." As he straightened his tall frame, the tension was evident and his irritation unmistakable. "Oh, I forgot," he added bitterly, "the rules don't apply to Mary Shannon."

The tone of the remark caught Mary off guard, kicking defense systems into overdrive.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she snapped.

All this time she hadn't gotten away with anything. Marshall knew. About the phone, her back-up weapon…everything; yet never said a word. The significance of this was lost on Mary. Instead, feeling the fool, anger won out.

"You want to pat me down?" she challenged, tongue laced with venom as she flung her arms out to the side to give Marshall access.

His eyes shot to hers and there was a flash of warning behind the darkening blue orbs. Taking a step closer, she squared off against him. Controlled breaths grazed her cheek. The reaction in her belly ignored as she lashed out.

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" she said callously. It was a cheap shot; one she regretted. But even as she cursed herself for it, Mary showed no signs of remorse.

XX

Marshall's hands balled into fists at his sides. Eyes shutting, he inhaled deeply. Even when aware they were about to come to blows, Mary always managed to hit below the belt. He wrenched his neck and exhaled before speaking.

"Is that your way of saying I can't trust you?" It was a calm and calculated question, posed to fluster her.

It worked.

She took a half step back and looked at him, stupefied.

"What?" he asked as if having been accused of swiping the last donut over morning coffee. The nonchalance of his tone had a single purpose…to irritate the hell out of Mary.

"Eight years of partnership and…" Marshall watched as she caught the words before they could escape. Stance widened; fists clenched on hips. Green eyes narrowed as she cocked her head. "Are you seriously questioning my loyalty?"

"No, Mary, I'm not," stated without hesitation. Curiosity piqued, he briefly pondered what had been left unsaid; a similar unfinished thought rattling around his own mind. Shaking it off, attention was redirected back to the question at hand. "Should I be?"

As the words registered, so did the hurt on her face and Mary turned to leave. One, two, three steps…she stopped.

Marshall prepared himself for the onslaught.

"On second thought, let's talk about trust, Mr. Peterson Security." Turning back, Mary eyed him like prey as their gazes met once more. "That's right. It's not exactly like you're the poster boy for honesty, are you?"

He knew they should walk away before anything else was said. Things that were meant to hurt for the sake of hurting. But…it was already too late. The gauntlet had been thrown. The gloves were off. There was no going back.

"I'm not the one that tried to salvage my sham of an engagement by disclosing confidential information about my job to my fiancé without a single thought about what it meant for my partner." Marshall couldn't help but smirk. Too much had been brushed aside or locked away for far too long.

_I'll be damned if I'm going to roll over this time._

"No, you just nail the office accountant and send her running back to Phoenix."

A deer caught in headlights.

He hated the smug look of satisfaction on his partner's face. Of course, it had been foolish to think that Mary wouldn't find out about his office indiscretion.

_Had she bothered with the details?_ _Did she know it was one drunken night? Specifically, the night after she'd taken off to Mexico with Faber. Two days after she'd left me standing alone in front of her desk with my heart on my sleeve._

"Didn't think I knew about that, did ya?" she questioned. Not able to leave it alone, Mary continued to add insult to injury. "Just how fast did Theresa high tail it out of Dodge?"

_Breathe._

He took a moment, his eyes never leaving hers.

Obviously, Mary was unaware or…had simply chosen to ignore the facts. He had parted with Theresa on good terms. It had been a night of comfort, neither looking for a future. Marshall was in love with Mary and Theresa deciding to give the ex-boyfriend another chance.

"If memory serves," Marshall responded coldly, "_**she's**_ not the one who ran."

The thought was left to ruminate as an oppressive silence settled between them. Marshall counted the seconds that ticked by before making a crass and calculated query.

"Still screwing Faber six ways to Sunday?"

"Fuck you."

Mary stormed off toward the trailhead. A hand reached up and wiped away tears she would never admit to as she tried to put as much distance between them as possible.

"Damn it," Marshall cursed under his breath. Kicking at the dirt, he watched Mary walk away from him for the second time in less than two months. Of course, based on his last acrimonious remark, who could blame her?

The pettiness and cruelty had become an all too familiar…and disturbing…pattern. It was a cycle that needed to be broken. His gut screamed at him not to let her go. Not to let her walk away this time.

"Mary!"

"Better get moving, asshole," she called back over her shoulder, refusing to stop. "I won't wait forever at the Pass."

Marshall stared after her, struggling with the urge to follow until she disappeared from sight.

Grabbing his canteens, he headed off in the opposite direction. He hoped the fresh air and exertion would pacify the demons. Allow them to talk things out when they met again. If not, he doubted even his ability to find an olive branch large enough to satisfy the likes of Mary Shannon in her current state.

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**Are you ready for more? **

**I won't keep you waiting long and will do my best to update every other day. In the meantime, I'd love to know what you think. So submit those reviews and bring some joy to my day! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: In celebration of the last day of summer (and a beautiful one it is, at least here) and to thank you for the wonderful, encouraging reviews, I'm updating early. Also, the next couple of days are a bit crazy, so it will be late Thursday before I get to update again. I hope you enjoy it and Happy Autumn!**

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**"In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks."**

**-John Muir**

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Mary couldn't believe what her relationship with Marshall had deteriorated into. Work or fight. Was that it? The friendship, the trust, the l…no, all those years had to mean something. Didn't they?

_Oh, God. It's all my fault. _

Guilt balled in the pit of her stomach leaving her nauseous. Had she known this would be the price of her Mexican fling…

Becoming aware of her surroundings, Mary discovered she was safely ensconced within the thickening fir trees of Gila National Forest. Unfortunately, there was little comfort found among the tall trees. In all the years they'd been making these treks, they'd never once parted ways fighting. Bickering, snide comments and challenges…always, but never anger.

It had all started seven years ago, just shy of her first anniversary at the Albuquerque WITSEC office.

_After transporting Denny Clark to trial in Little Rock, they'd been forced to drive back due to storms throughout the Midwest. They'd been somewhere between Bumfuck, Oklahoma and Nowhere, Texas when she'd made the mistake of interrupting his very detailed history of the yarrow plant, aka achillea millefolium, better known as plumajillo in New Mexico, and its use in treating wounds. _

"_Who the hell are you, Grizzly Adams?" she questioned in all seriousness._

"_The TV character of Grizzly Adams was based on the life of J. Capen "Grizzly" Adams. It's really rather interesting …"_

"_No! Never mind, forget I asked," she told him, interrupting before he could begin yet another long diatribe. _

_After twenty minutes of silence, Mary spoke again._

"_You spout all this information, Mr. Smartass, but have you ever actually tested any of the information in your head to see if it's actually useful?"_

"_Most are proven facts," Marshall stated, pointedly._

"_Yeah, yeah, says some professor or scientist in some lab somewhere," she patronized. "But how do __**you**__ really know that any of that stuff occupying space in your brain would help you when you needed it?"_

"_I don't think I'm the one that needs to worry about my ability to survive alone in the wilderness should the situation arise," he responded with a smirk._

"_Is that some sort of challenge, doofus?"_

That's how she'd ended up traipsing through National Forest lands one weekend a year for the last seven years. Mary was suddenly aware of the smile that had formed on her lips as she reminisced. Pulling her thoughts out of the past, it faded like the sunlight shrouded by the trees.

Despite having circumvented dealing with her partner, the situation had far from improved. The current predicament was a punishment beyond those that haunted nightmares; at least for Mary.

She was alone with herself.

"Great. Two days in the tenth circle of hell," she muttered as the trail narrowed and began to climb.

xxxxx

"_You've got to be kidding me," she said, cocking her head to the side and holding out the small box with her right hand as her left made its way to her hip. _

_The look he gave her held his answer and the change in her expression as she processed the information divulged her comprehension._

"_Holy shit, Marshall," Mary said incredulously. Falling back into her desk chair, she placed the box on the desk and eyed it warily. _

"_If you've changed…"_

_She put her hand up without looking at him, a silent indication for him to stop talking and he complied. Sitting up, she opened the box and removed each item one by one until the 5x3x1 inch container lay empty in front of her. Then, she turned her attention to the paraphernalia spread across her blotter._

_Matches. _

_Snare wire. _

_Mirror. _

_Wrist compass. _

_Fishing line. _

_Fishhooks. _

_Candle. _

_Oxytetracycline tablets. _

_Water purification tablets. _

_Solar blanket. _

_Surgical blades. _

_Butterfly sutures. _

_Condoms. _

_Chap Stick. _

_Needle and thread. _

_Knife. _

"_So let me get this straight," Mary voiced as she returned each item to its place in the box after careful examination. "I'm supposed to go off into the wilderness, overnight, with just the items in this box."_

"_And water." Marshall added. "We'll each have two liter canteens of water."_

"_Phones and guns?"_

"_Nope. Phone wouldn't do you much good anyway out there. No reception. And as for the gun, it's not hunting season," he quipped, "so the knife should be sufficient."_

"_And this?" she questioned with a devious grin, taking the remaining item on her desk between her fingers and waving it in front of him. _

"_For water storage," he responded as he cleared his throat and turned toward his own desk in attempt to hide the red that he knew was creeping across his cheeks. _

"_Who knew they could serve so many purposes," she said, regarding the tiny, square plastic wrapper in her hand and relishing in her partner's obvious discomfort. Finally, she tucked it away and snapped the lid shut. "Okay, MacGuyver, you're on."_

Marshall would never forget that day. It was the first time Mary had agreed to do something with him outside of work that didn't involve free beer. The event marked the beginning of a relationship beyond their partnership. A friendship and something…more? For his part, yes.

The feelings that twisted him in knots and made his heart ache were real. There was no switch to flip to turn them off; he'd tried. He was in love with Mary Shannon.

She didn't want him.

xxxxx

After a couple of hours, the gradual ascent upgraded into a steep climb and Mary was ready for the challenge.

The anger from earlier that morning was channeled into the strength needed to make it to the top of the ridge. There was nothing to think about other than the goal of meeting the sky. Step by step she ascended, burning off the aggression and guilt that had been festering inside her since Mexico.

She sighed as she reached the plateau.

_Freedom_.

Walking out to the ledge, she inhaled the fresh air and thought about what it must be like to soar.

_"What the hell am I doing?" Mary questioned, throwing the pen on the desk next to the unsigned transfer request. "I can't just pick up and move across the country." _

_"Why not?" came Marshal Marshall 's voice from his desk across the office._

_"What do you mean why not?" _

_"Well, from the little you've shared, it seems like the only one holding you back is you? But..." Marshall added quickly before she could speak, "before you make your final decision there's something I want to show you."_

_/_

_Mary stood speechless as she stared out across New Mexico. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced._

_"As you go the way of life you will see a great chasm. Jump. It is not as wide as you think."_

_The words drifted softly from behind her and then, only silence._

xxxxx

Having discarded his hiking boots and socks, Marshall rolled up his jeans and waded into the river. The late-spring water was cold as it made its way down from the mountain top and he shivered despite the heat of midday. Reaching down, he cupped some in his hands and as he splashed his face and neck, his overheated body began to cool.

As he stood surveying the river banks for signs of life, the lazy flow of the river captured his attention. Mesmerized, Marshall watched until it disappeared around a bend as it wound its way south. His gaze then fell to the mountains beyond…his thoughts to Mary. Could she see him from her perch above the world? Did she want to?

He'd been prepared for rejection; or so he thought. The constant battle between heart and mind had always ended with logic prevailing and that was the reason he'd kept his mouth shut. Marshall still didn't understand what had possessed him that day in the office. But, it was done. At least he knew.

It was the kick in the stomach, the slap across the face that followed…

Beyond Marshall's worst case scenario, it hadn't even been considered. No armor had been put in place. Defenseless and exposed, the wound had cut deep. Almost anyone else, he may have been able to stomach it. But Agent Mike Faber…the thought still made him nauseous.

Marshall reached down into the water and picked up a rock, edges worn smooth by a lifetime under the constant motion of the river. He ran his other hand along his jaw. The years had not been so kind to him.

The sadness in Theresa's eyes that evening had matched the ache in his heart. One drink had turned into another and then one too many. Not that it mattered. They were consenting adults and it wasn't like he was cheating. There was no one to cheat on.

The splash of the rock followed by the sloshing of his legs against the water was the only sound beyond those of nature. Setting himself upon a log in the sun, Marshall closed his eyes as he willed his mind into stillness and just listened. Soothing...peaceful...all the things his life was not.

/

Drawn out of quiet meditation by his internal clock, he noted the sun was well past its peak in the sky. Marshall knew it was time to move on. Toward what…he hadn't the slightest clue.

That was when he spotted it: the Southwestern Willow Flycatcher. The small songbird was part of a tiny population scattered throughout the American Southwest. Its habitat slowly being destroyed, sightings were becoming extremely rare. Marshall remained still and his eyes followed the bird as it fluttered along the river's edge before disappearing back into the thicket.

This was one of the reasons he had relinquished the peaks to Mary without reservation. Since childhood, the wildlife of the forests and river valleys fascinated him. The common and uncommon, predator and prey. A peek into the wonders of nature that never failed to take his breath away. In more recent years, it was the birds in the sky that had captured Marshall's attention. Believed to represent everything from birth and death to spirituality and wisdom, he couldn't help but ponder the significance of this particular sighting.

_Why now? Nature's way of easing the heartache, perhaps? A sign that there's always hope. Or a message to keep my eyes open to new discoveries. _

Not wanting to start a philosophical debate in his own mind, Marshall shook it off and stood. But as he gathered his socks and boots, an unconscious sigh of contentment escaped, punctuated by a small smile.

Dry and ready to face the backcountry again, Marshall navigated his way around the natural obstructions of nature en route to the depths of the wilderness. There were several areas with caves suitable for making camp as long as he arrived with plenty of daylight to spare.

The voices took him by surprise. It had been several hours since he'd crossed paths with anyone and his present position was definitely off the beaten path.

He froze. Anger. Accusations. Desperation. The exchange taking place was between at least three different men. Instinctively, he reached for his gun.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath.

Even unarmed, Marshall advanced in the direction of the disturbance. Careful to avoid any movement that may alert to his presence, he moved swiftly. Senses on full alert.

The voices grew louder and were just off to his right, but still out of view. Marshall spotted an ATV parked in a small clearing and a plan formed. Retrieving the knife from his kit…

A shot rang out, its unnatural boom reverberating through the mountains.

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**Ruh roh! Just what has Marshall stumbled onto?**

**Stay tuned for more and I'd love to hear your thoughts. As always, reviews make me smile ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I had some time this morning and decided not to make you wait until tonight. Enjoy!**

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**"Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves - regret for the past and fear of the future."**

**- Fulton Oursler**

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Mary sat with her face to the sky as the sun warmed her, body and soul. But like all glimpses of paradise, she knew it must come to an end.

A sip of water to hydrate, then she coaxed herself upright, leaving the warmth of the rocks behind. From the position of the sun, Mary knew she'd lingered too long. Walking to the edge one last time, she whispered a farewell. It was important to get moving if she was going to make camp.

The trek down took more out of her than she had anticipated. She was only halfway down. It made no sense. Nothing had changed from previous years. Had it?

Winded and tired, Mary stepped off the trail and sat. Irritation emerged at the thought of no longer being able to keep up with her younger self. Who was she kidding? Had she really believed her age would never catch up with her? As good a shape as she was in, she was pushing forty, whether she admitted it or not.

A bitter laugh escaped her throat.

Her body was the least of her problems. Forty fucking years old and what the hell did she have to show for it?

Mary Elizabeth Shannon, United States Marshal.

That was it. That was all there was. Good thing she planned on cremation. There was nothing to write on a headstone.

Years, no, a lifetime had been spent taking care of Jinx and Brandi. Cleaning up messes and providing for them. Now they were moving on, didn't need Mary any longer. That should be good news, shouldn't it? So why wasn't she happier?

Then there was the Probe. Dead. Right alongside her so-called engagement. What did it say about her that those were the two longest relationships she'd had in her life outside of her immediate family?

_Marshall._ It came in a whisper she tried to ignore.

Rubbing her temples, she closed her eyes.

The voice, ever persistent, whispered again.

"God damn it," Mary cursed as she stood up. "I heard you. So just shut up the fuck up already."

A few steps and she froze. Tensing as the noise echoed through the mountains. A gunshot.

xxxxx

Pulling out the knife, he marked the tree. There were too many of them and they were armed. He had to warn her… needed help.

Mary couldn't be far. The morning hike had taken her up over the ridge where she usually took her time. He doubted she'd made it down yet. The paths he'd mapped out kept them in close proximity, definitely closer than she would like. Of course, that was assuming she hadn't strayed from the set route.

_God, Mary, please just stick to the plan for once. _

Working quickly, he repeated the same pattern on the surrounding firs with the hope the code hadn't been forgotten. It had been set up years ago and never needed; until now.

It was not in Marshall's nature to risk losing a murderer by waiting around. Mary would come, she had to. He refused to believe anything else. Still, as he headed back into the fray, he sent up a silent plea.

When the original challenge had been accepted, Marshall had eagerly taken on the responsibility for planning the event. From start to finish; every detail was covered. Supplies, maps, coordinates. And most importantly, a way to signal each other in the event of an emergency.

That first year, overly concerned about his Jersey girl partner's ability to survive in the wilderness of the Southwest, Marshall refused to stray far. In fact, he'd shadowed her path in order keep an eye on her and made sure to remain within shouting distance at all times.

There was no rescue that weekend. The truth was that her capabilities had impressed him and were added to the ever growing mental list of things to remember about Mary Shannon; right before the entry reminding him to keep more distance in the future.

"_Well, looks like someone gets her girl scout merit badge after all," Marshall teased as Mary came down the path toward him at the end of their first survival weekend. _

"_If I catch you checking up on me again next year," Mary spat as she walked up to him and stuck her finger in his face, "it will not only be the last of these little outings, but you'll be missing body parts that I'm sure you're fairly attached to." _

_He sat in stunned silence as she stalked off toward where they had left the car. She never saw the small smile that formed on his lips as he recovered and followed after her, already formulating plans in his head for the following year. _

xxxxx

She reached the end of the path that led from the ridge, glad to find the cover of the trees awaiting her.

Mary loved the height of the canyons and the peaks. She was not a nature person, but the first time she stood and looked out over Albuquerque and the desert, it had taken her breath away…indescribably beautiful. A sense of freedom completely unfamiliar had washed over her.

Marshall. He'd been the one to take her there. It was always Marshall.

Mary shook her head.

It had been during that first visit to New Mexico. They never spoke of it. But Mary knew that was why her annual hikes always included the better vistas. This year had been no exception. Only she'd reached the highest point of the trek at midday and stayed a little too long. Now she was hot and tired and simply wanted to rest.

Taking off her long sleeve shirt and hanging it from a nearby branch, she settled on a rock in the shade. The water from the canteen was no longer cold. It didn't matter. After closing it back up, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Sweat dripped from her brow as her head fell back. Remaining still, she allowed her body to cool and refresh itself.

"_You know, you really shouldn't push yourself so hard," her partner advised. "Your body needs to recover."_

"_The weekend's over, now I can rest," she replied. "Besides, no way in hell I'm going to just hand you a victory because I was a little tired."_

"_This isn't about winning," Marshall told her. "It's about not ending up overheated and passed out on a trail alone because you were too stubborn to listen to your own body."_

"_Yeah, yeah. Just shut up and drive."_

It had taken weeks to recover from that first outing. If it hadn't been a matter of pride, she never would have ventured out again. The following year, and every year since, she made sure to follow Marshall's advice. Mary listened to her body. She hadn't had a problem since and has yet to say thank you to her partner.

xxxxx

Marshall climbed up onto the rock formation. Crawling his way across to the other side and positioning himself above the trail, he waited. The ATV wouldn't have taken them far. He had seen to that. On foot, they'd be much easier to keep an eye on until Mary arrived.

He didn't need to hear them approach to know it was the right trail. The options were limited heading south and that is the direction in which they'd be headed. You don't kill a man, especially a National Park Ranger, and hang around. If you're in New Mexico, you head to Mexico.

Already flat on his belly, Marshall ducked his head as the voices drew nearer.

"God damn it, just shut up and walk," a rough voice demanded.

"But Jesse, someone's gonna come lookin' for him and…"

"Shut up!" Enraged. Dangerous. "Or so help me I'll put a bullet in you too."

There was the shuffle of feet below and the unintelligible mumblings of the same angered voice. The sounds faded as the man named Jesse increased his pace. In its place came the hurried whispers of two others.

"Christ, kid, you're gonna git us killed. Just keep your trap shut and do what you're told."

"He killed him!" Fear. Remorse. "Nobody ever said nothin' about killin' anybody, Bobby."

Before the conversation could continue, Jesse yelled back at them.

"What the hell you girls doing back there?" The suspicion in his tone was unmistakable and the men hustled to catch up.

Raising his head, Marshall scooted backwards without standing. He'd seen their faces clear enough the first time. No reason to look now.

As the trail below fell silent, Marshall's mind was already in fifth gear. Assessing options and cataloging information. How many weapons did they have? Provisions? Probably not much since they hadn't planned on being out here overnight.

_What the…_

His boot met only air, pitching Marshall off balance. Hands grabbed at smooth rock as his right leg flailed and an overactive brain couldn't downshift fast enough to react.

Marshall was falling.

xxxxx

Pulling her aching body back to its feet, Mary reached above her head and stretched. The muscles were tight and sore, but she found herself smiling even as she grimaced in pain.

_When did I become so masochistic?_

Mary snorted at the thought as she snagged her shirt from the tree branch and put it back on. Images of hand cuffs, leather and…

_Pull your mind out of the gutter, Shannon. Sex is not what you should be thinking about right now._

Not more than ten yards later, she stopped, uncertainty creeping into her consciousness. Walking backwards a few steps, Mary directed her attention to the trunk of the fir tree to her left. As if believing she'd imagined it, she stepped closed and ran the tips of her fingers over the etching. Any lingering doubt receded as her heart began to pound in her chest.

Criss-crossing the path, she found the same message on three other trees. Marshall was in trouble.

"Oh God," she uttered.

Reaching out for support, she placed her hand on the tree as the gunshot replayed in her mind. Dismissed earlier without a second thought, she'd assumed it was a Ranger putting down an injured animal or scaring off an overzealous bear. But now…

_Breathe, Mary...focus._

Fumbling with her kit, Mary found the compass and held it out with both hands as she tried to steady herself. The needle bounced around before finally coming to rest. Looking up, she confirmed the numbers carved in the tree one last time before setting out.

Even as she tried to concentrate on the terrain underfoot, her head was swimming. It had started with another fight when they had purposely hurt each other. An ambush, a gunshot, a dirty gas station. The knot in her stomach tightened at the memory of Marshall coughing up blood and passing out. Mary pushed the image from her thoughts and quickened her pace.

"I'm coming, Marshall…I'm coming."

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**Are you still with me? Make my day and let me know what you think? Thanks for reading and more to come soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I had a break earlier and tried to post, but couldn't get onto the site. Sorry, but blame them and not me for the later update. Now on with our story...**

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**"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strenth, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." **

**-Lao Tzu**

* * *

The crack of bone breaking reverberated in his ears like a clap of thunder as he collided with the ground. Reflexively, Marshall clenched his jaw in anticipation of the pain and it struck like a fire bomb exploding in his ankle, setting his entire body on fire. Blinded by pain, an agonizing scream escaped his throat as he rolled onto his back, hands groping for his injured lower left leg.

Oblivious to the world around him, he rocked back and forth over dust-covered earth, unaware of the blood that flowed down the side of his head. An eternity later, the world around him began to take shape again and rational thought slowly crept back into Marshall's mind telling him to move. Body screaming in protest, he coaxed it into a sitting position and leaned back against the rock.

_Breathe. Breathe. Breathe._

Marshall repeated the mantra over and over in his mind as he struggled to regain control of his adrenalized system. Reaching down, he grasped for the left boot lace. Swollen ankle throbbing with every tug, he worked to loosen it as he fought the urge to rip the boot off completely…to relieve the pressure, stop the pain. The inkling of reason that had returned won out. Boot or no, the pain wasn't going to stop. It was better to let the boot serve as a splint and hope the swelling didn't get so bad that it cut off his circulation entirely.

Collapsing back against the rock once more, Marshall closed his eyes. Just the simple act of untying a shoe lace had exhausted him. He knew it was the result of the agony his body was in, but the thought held little consolation. Heart pounding, he was focused on taking deep breaths when he saw Mary. The image in his mind so real, he called out to her as his eyelids flew open to reveal only disappointment.

_Get a grip,_ he scolded. _You __**can**__ do this._

Move. It was the last thing that should be done, considering the injury, but it was too risky for him to sit still. While Marshall had no conscious memory of crying out, he knew in all likelihood that he had and if they had heard him, it was only a matter of time before the hunter became the hunted. Being defenseless, the only option was to find a place with better cover. Knowing his left leg was out of commission, he scanned the area for something to use as a crutch.

Spotting a large branch behind some rocks several yards away, Marshall groaned at the prospect of retrieving it. Using the power of his good leg and pushing back against the rock, he forced his body upright and eyed the target a moment before proceeding. Ankle throbbing with every hop, hands clenched into fists that grew tighter with each ragged breath, eyes locked on the prize.

x

Fifteen excruciating minutes after he'd manage to forge a makeshift crutch out of the branch, Marshall had covered little of the trail that would lead him back into the depths of the forest. A short rest to regroup revealed that he'd left his canteens behind. Swearing under his breath, he remembered taking them off before climbing up over the trail to spy on Jesse's crew.

Hot, tired, and in pain with dehydration soon to be added to an ever growing list of afflictions, Marshall sat. His tongue escaped a parched mouth to wet dry lips when a wave of dizziness threatened to overtake him. Head swimming, his eyes drifted shut as his arm reached for the support of a nearby tree.

"_Marshall! Wake up, Marshall." Mary's panicked voice broke through the haze. "Stay with me. You can you do it. Just hang on."_

The words were familiar and Marshall concentrated on them. She had spoken them that day in the desert as he had drifted in and out of consciousness and once again they served to bring him out of a stupor. Marshall opened his eyes half expecting to back in that dirty abandoned gas station, only to find he was surrounded by wilderness.

_Mary's coming. I know she's coming._

As Marshall reached for the crutch, he redirected his attention to the Herculean task ahead. Step by painful step he advanced until the trees began to spin and suddenly he was back at the County Fair riding the Round Up with Jenny Hinkle. He'd always hated that ride. A heartbeat later, the nausea set in and as he doubled over, a new sensation overtook him. He was freefalling.

Panicked, he swung the branch out in desperation, mistakenly convinced it was no long supporting him. It came back down hard at an awkward angle and skidded along the ground under Marshall's weight. No time for thought or plans, survival instinct kicked in and his injured left foot hit the dirt in an attempt to brace against the fall. Knees hitting the earth, Marshall blinked in confusion and waited. When the pain shot through him, the world was set on fire before it faded away to black.

xxx

Hiking boots were designed for climbing, to offer support and protection on varying terrain. They were not designed for running; at least hers weren't. Feet aching and calves sore, Mary traversed the unfamiliar landscape. Boots? How was it possible that she was analyzing her choice of boots at a time like this?

A quick look at her feet and she was back in Albuquerque at the Sporting Goods store with Marshall looking over her shoulder.

"_Stop grabbing all the boots out my hand!" Mary growled, grabbing back the shoe. "Get your own damn pair."_

"_These are all women's boots," Marshall replied, realizing too late he was setting himself up for mockery. _

_The salesperson interrupted just as Mary was about to speak and her smirk morphed into an annoyed scowl. Throwing the boot at the young man, she demanded a size 8 and plopped herself on the bench to wait. A few minutes later a box was handed to her and as she opened it up, Marshall launched into a dissertation on how to find the proper hiking boot. _

"_You like the steeper climbs," he reminded her, ignoring the eye roll in response. "That's an important factor in determining…"_

_Mary tried on the boots, no longer paying attention to what her partner was saying. After checking the room in the heel and toe, she got up and walked away, leaving Marshall staring after her mid-sentence. A quick trip around the store and she was ready to lay out more money than she'd ever spent on shoes in her life. _

"_What the…" she said as she looked from the sales guy to Marshall and back again._

"_You're boyfriend said you'd like to test them on the slant board," the guy said smiling. All it took was one look from Mary and he froze, scared shitless to speak or even breathe._

"_My who said what?" Mary barked, turning her attention to Marshall. _

_With a smile and slight nod, Marshall released the sales guy and watched him scurry off before looking back to Mary._

"_A slant board allows you to test the boots on an incline to make sure…"_

"_I don't give a shit what it is or does and the next time you tell someone you're my boyfriend, I guarantee you won't live to regret it."_

"_I know the idea disgusts you." A controlled, steady voice masked the hurt. "I'm not too keen on it myself," Marshall lied, "but I simply asked for the board. I never said anything about status of our relationship." He held up his hands to keep her from interrupting. "Maybe, just maybe, he overheard your snide comments and saw you how you ignored me and just assumed that I had to be your boyfriend to put up with that crap."_

_This time it was Marshall that walked away, leaving Mary staring after him with mouth agape. _

_After taking off the boots and paying for them, she shot the sales guy a look that told him just what he could do with his board. A week later, she returned the boots because her foot was sliding forward. A fact she discovered after buyer's remorse set in and she did her own version of a slant board test. She never told Marshall. _

Mary's brow furrowed and she scrunched her nose. The originally distracting thoughts about boots now had her questioning her relationship with Marshall yet again. She knew she was a bitch to everyone else, but Marshall was different. Wasn't he? Partner, best friend…she'd opened up to him in so many ways, let him see beyond the hard exterior. They traded barbs and bickered, but it was all in good fun. Or was it?

_Face it, Shannon, you're a bitch. Especially to the one person that doesn't deserve it. _

A tear pricked at the corner of her eye and she looked up as she blinked it away. The sun had worked its way lower in the sky and Mary knew there wasn't much daylight left. Her mind jumped to the '_what if' _scenarios. No! She'd come this far and would find him before dark…she had to; there simply was no other option. The pace having increased beyond that of a jog, the rugged, unmarked back country was navigated swiftly. Worry and fear driving her, she pressed on, alert. The changing scents, every noise committed to memory as her eyes scanned for some sign…any sign of her partner.

_Damn it, Marshall. Where the hell are you?_

Based on the information he'd carved into the trees, she'd plotted the course and had to be getting close. But more than calculations, it was Mary's gut that was telling her Marshall was near. Slowing, she searched for a better vantage point. From higher up, it would be possible to survey the options the land held. A breath, unknowingly held, escaped her lips when she spotted the large rock formation just off to the right.

Coming upon a trail, Mary followed it and found herself standing below the rock, its smooth face mocking her. Hand skimming the surface, it became more jagged as the earth rose slightly underfoot. Reaching the top wouldn't be a problem after all. A carefully placed foot led her ascension. A few fluid motions later and she was nearing the top. Closer to the far side, she glanced down at the ground below and froze.

_Marshall's canteens._

Heart pounding in her chest, Mary stared. They had to be Marshall's. The Star Wars stickers a dead giveaway. No one else over the age of ten could pull that off and this was no child's playground.

"Marshall," she called, beginning her descent. "Marshall!"

Relief? Hope? Joy? An array of emotions had sprung up within Mary, but they faded at the lack of response. There was no way he'd leave those behind voluntarily. Something had happened…but what? Knowing there were no good answers to that question, she jumped and hit the ground running. Rounding the rock in a few long strides, she fell to her knees and snatched up the canteens.

"Marshall!"

Silence.

_Get up! This is Marshall. He must have left you a clue…something. Get up!_

Hand against the rock for support, Mary rose to her feet and slung a canteen over each shoulder, listening to them rattle against her own. Head still down, she noticed an impression in the dirt. It appeared as if something had been lying on the ground just a few feet away. Walking over to investigate, she squatted and ran her hand along the dirt until she hit a few small patches that were darker, clumped together. It looked…wet.

Rubbing a sample between her fingers, she didn't think much of it until it took on an almost reddish hue. Head cocked, Mary squinted, trying to make sense of it. Eyes darted back and forth from the fingers to the ground. Not sure what to make of it, she stood and looked around; spotting the one thing she'd feared the most…blood.

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**I know, I know...another cliffhanger. Please don't hold it against me. In fact, your reviews have made week, most I've ever gotten. So thanks for the love 3**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I love you guys for all the amazing reviews. You have no idea how happy you've made me. Okay, okay, I'll stop gushing. Here's the next installment...**

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**"Man can live about forty days without food, about three days without water, about eight minutes without air, but only for one second without hope."**

**- unknown**

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_Busting down the door ahead of schedule, Mary disappeared from sight and Marshall cursed as he bolted from cover toward the house. In the two and half years they'd been partners, he'd learned a lot about Mary Shannon and how to deal with her, even how to rein her in when necessary. Unfortunately, there were still times when she fell into her old FTF ways…this was one of those times. _

_The son of a witness had gotten mixed up with a bad crowd, the types that boast gang colors and sell drugs. After spending the morning with a hysterical mother and angry father, Mary and Marshall were now trying to extract the stupid kid before he did anything illegal or landed in lock up simply by association. _

_The plan had been to scope out the house and intercept the idiot without drawing any attention. Things went south quickly when shots were fired. Even in a gang run part of town, they knew it wouldn't be long before the cops showed up and decided to pull J.J. out, forcefully if necessary. But, either Mary had decided to ignore the 'if necessary' part or something happened that had her kicking down the door._

_More shots fired… and not all of them from Mary's gun. _

"_Mary!" Marshall called out as he flattened against the house just outside the door._

_While she didn't respond, he heard her yelling at someone to get face down on the floor. _

"_Mary!"_

"_Marshall!" _

_Exhaling in relief, he entered the house to see someone entering from the back with a gun aimed at Mary. _

"_Gun!" he alerted her, eyes never leaving the young man. "U.S. Marshals! Drop the weapon…I said drop it, asshole!"_

_Mary turned her head to look when the guy on the ground reached out to grab her legs. She was on the floor a heartbeat later, struggling with him while the gun held by the other was still trained on her._

"_Drop it. Now!" Everything about Marshall's voice was dangerous, but the kid just smirked. _

_Playing with Mary's life was not an option and Marshall knew he needed to disable the gangbanger. A carefully placed shot to the shoulder would do it. Taking aim, he fired, but the kid got off a round just before he reeled backward and dropped the gun. _

_Marshall was on him instantly, pushing him to the ground and cuffing him. Rising, he turned and his heart was in his throat. Mary and the other kid lay tangled on the floor, neither moving. _

"_No, no, no! Oh, God…Mary!" Marshall cried out at seeing the blood pooling on the floor. Lunging, he was on the floor and cradling her head in his lap. "Please wake up, Mare. You gotta wake up. I…" _

_The words caught as he stifled the sob in the back of his throat. This was not happening. He couldn't lose her. He…what? _

"_Who died, Doofus?" Mary croaked, rubbing her head and looking up at him. It wasn't Mary's blood. She was okay…she was going to be okay. _

_A relieved laugh broke from Marshall along with the few tears that he no longer fought to hold back. Emotions bubbled to the surface, feelings that took him by surprise. Smiling down at his partner, Marshall buried them down deep, convinced they were merely the result of almost losing his partner and nothing more._

Dust billowed as the coughs sputtered past cracked lips giving way to low gravelly moans.

"Mary?" a rough voice questioned.

Elbows bending toward the sky, Marshall's hands spread wide against the forest floor as he tentatively lifted his head. Eyes opening, gaze at ground level, he struggled to recall what had happened. An attempt to take in air resulted in more coughing as his body expelled the dirt from his airway.

The weight of his upper body supported by uncertain limbs, he lifted himself and, shifting his hips, Marshall maneuvered into a sitting position. The pain in his left leg told the story and all the events of the day crashed into a semi-coherent mind. Scooting backward, he came to rest at the base of a tall pine, ankle screaming at the slightest movement. An attempt at a more comfortable position led to the realization that he could no longer feel his toes.

The boot…it had to come off. The swelling was cutting off the circulation of blood to his foot and the only chance was to free it from the boot. Marshall bent from the waist, doing his best not to move the injured leg. Working to pull out the loosened shoelace, it was all he could do to keep from screaming and the most agonizing part still lie ahead…removing the boot.

Inhaling, teeth clenched tight and hands on his calf, Marshall counted to three and drew the lower leg up, resting it on his good leg. It seemed there was no getting used to the pain and after the dizziness passed, he once again felt faint.

_Breathe…breathe…breathe._

A harsh laugh erupted from within as Marshall thought about how often he'd told himself to breathe today. From his fight with Mary through his injury to the present predicament, the universe seemed to be hell bent on punishing him for…something. The laughter subsided as a lone tear trailed down his face.

_This is __**not**__ how it is going to end. _

The scream echoed through the forest as he ripped the boot free and the tears began to flow unabated; Marshall no longer able to keep them at bay. Sitting against that tree, he didn't just cry from the pain. He cried for Mary, for him…for what they'd been and what they'd become…but most of all he cried for what they would never be.

Exhaustion and pain eventually taking their toll, Marshall began to fade in and out of consciousness as the sun began its final descent in the sky. At one point, he'd been convinced that Mary had called his name and he'd croaked out a weak response. He had no idea how long ago that had been and now believed he was hallucinating. No longer able to fight, his eyes began drifting shut. And as they slid closed, he smiled at the image of Mary making her way towards him.

xxx

Finding fugitives was what Mary did…or used to do. No Native American blood, she wasn't a tracker, but she'd been trained in other ways and more importantly, had paid attention over the years. WITSEC had served as means of increasing her skill set and she was able to find all kinds of people, criminal and not. That being the case, there was no reason she couldn't find her partner?

"_Man that felt good. Didn't that feel good?" Mary grinned as she handed off one of America's Most Wanted to the local boys. _

"_If you say so," Marshall drawled with much less enthusiasm._

"_I've been waiting almost two years to go kicking in doors with you and...I just don't get it." Mary stopped walking and turned to face her partner. _

"_Get what? That I don't get my rocks off shooting ducks in a barrel…" _

"_What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Head cocked, hands on her hips._

"_Yes, some very bad men were taken off the streets today and that's a good thing. But can you honestly tell me that you miss it? That this is how you'd rather be spending your days? Hunting people?"_

"_You make it sound like there's no skill or intelligence involved. That lives aren't being saved." Mary's voice took on an edge of defensiveness. _

"_I'm not saying that." Marshall held up his hands to calm her, even as his own voice grew more urgent. "I'm asking you if you miss it…if you'd rather be back…doing that every day."_

_Mary regarded him with a look he'd come to know well. It told him she was thinking about what he'd said, but she didn't respond._

"_You are an excellent WITSEC Inspector, Mary. But seeing you today, maybe…"_

"_What? You think I'm gonna run back to the FTF?" Mary huffed._

"_Is that what you want? What you need?" Marshall asked, really sure if he wanted the answer. "Tell me what __**you**__ need."_

"_Dumbass," Mary snorted. "If I'd known you were going to get all serious on me, I'd have left you at the office. I mean, talk about a buzz kill. Now let's get the hell out of here so you can buy me lunch."_

Mary questioned just about everything, often forlorn and with regret, or in anticipation of one day feeling that way. Daddy issues. She knew…hell everyone knew. The knowing didn't make them any easier to overcome and it seemed easier most days to just ignore it. One decision she'd never regretted was the transfer to Albuquerque, but she couldn't deny having used that to hurt Marshall from time to time. To this day, she'd never quite understood **why** he had been so willing to work with her when she made it anything but easy.

_He could have had any partner he wanted. Why me? _

His words from that day in the office replayed in her mind. 'Someone that challenges you, calls you on your BS…makes you think.' Maybe he wasn't just talking about her after all.

"Oh God," came the barely audible whisper. So caught up in her own fears and doubts, had she even thought about how it was affecting him.

_Focus! _

The dirt showed a right footprint followed haphazardly by others, no left. Mary didn't need to confirm it was the size or look for other evidence to know; it was Marshall and he'd injured his leg. Only trace amounts of blood present and the fact that he was on the move eased the panic she'd initially felt. Noting a change in the pattern, Mary studied them for several moments, not knowing whether she was going to kiss him or kill him.

"What the hell is going on, Marshall?" she asked the wind as if it would answer. "Why didn't you just stay put and wait?"

Well aware of the waning sunlight, Mary jogged the path Marshall set earlier. Dependent on a cane or crutch, he couldn't have gotten far. At one point, the prints gathered on top of each other and she wondered if he'd stopped there to rest. Had he been aware the canteens had been left behind? How long had it been since he'd had water?

"Marshall! Marshall!"

Only the wilderness answered.

"Marshall!" she called again, refusing to let her mind spin stories about what could happen to a person, alone and injured, out here at night.

Normally, the faint cry would have been dismissed by that of a small animal, but it triggered a spark of hope in Mary. Despite her steady pace, heart pounded and footfalls echoed, making it difficult to listen for any further calls. She stopped and not hearing anything, desperation began to fill her. Spinning, eyes moved from tree to bush to log and back again.

_What was that?_

A few steps closer…

_Is it…_

Mary's heart caught in her throat as the object began to take on a human form.

"Marshall." The name escaped as a choked sob.

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**Cliffhangers, cliffhangers, I know, but please don't throw things! At least you know she finally found him, right? Those reviews are fueling the muses, so more to come soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: The good news: here is the latest installment and I hope it eases the pain of the last cliffhanger. The bad news: life is getting a little crazy, so while updates will still be regular, I can't guarantee I'll get one up every other day. More good news: I'm already hard at work at the next update and we're getting close to the end of our tale. **

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**"Never let go of hope. One day you will see that it all has finally come together. What you have always wished for has finally come to be. You will look back and laugh at what has passed and you will ask yourself... 'How did I get through all of that?"**

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Breaking into a run, Mary called out to Marshall, but there was no response.

_Why isn't he answering? How serious is he hurt? What if I'm too late? _The questions racked her brain as she closed the distance between them.

Rushing to his side, Mary fell to her knees, horrified by his appearance. The side of his head was covered in dried blood and caked-on dirt, along with scrapes and bruises. And that was only his face; she didn't want to think about how battered the unexposed skin may be. Scanning the length of him, her eyes stopped at the exposed ankle, swollen and discolored.

Tears welled up and Mary felt her control slipping. She'd spun a thousand scenarios in her mind over the course of the past hours, but seeing Marshall now…like this. Even in the desert that day, he hadn't looked as defeated as he did hunched over against the tree and it shook her to the core. Trembling, she reached out…fingertips hovering over his wound. A moan and she flinched; a balled hand over her mouth stifled the sob.

Anger, sadness, fear…and feelings yet to be acknowledged raged within Mary like the rapids of a river barreling towards cracked floodgates. Rocking on her knees, she wrapped her arms around her waist and closed her eyes, willing it to be a nightmare…praying that when she opened her eyes she'd be home, tangled in her bed sheets alone and Marshall would be fine.

But he wasn't, and no amount of praying was going to change that.

Her shoulders heaved as the dam fractured and a tidal wave of emotions overwhelmed Mary. Tears streaming from the corners of her eyes, she bent and let her head come to rest on Marshall's chest as her fingers wrung his shirt. The fight from earlier replayed in her mind; a continuous reminder of how she'd lashed out at him…baited him…egged him on, the same way she always did. Pushing and shoving, over and over again. Waiting to see just how much it would take for him to walk away just like the others…to prove her right…to leave.

"I'm so sorry, Marshall," she croaked, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. "I don't want you to go."

It was as if everything that Mary had been holding onto…the resentments, the longings, the pain…poured out of her until there was nothing left. She turned her head and stayed there, listening to the sound of Marshall's heart beating, slow and steady. His chest rose and fell with each breath…calming, soothing.

The call of a bird echoed in the distance and Mary bolted upright, running a hand over her tear streaked face. More time had passed than she liked and it frustrated her that daylight had been wasted. She'd been blubbering away like a school girl when Marshall needed her help… needed her to be strong…needed **her**. Reaching up, she pushed the hair back from his face. _And I need him._

"I'm here, Marshall." Leaning down she touched her lips to his cheek. "I'm here."

Removing her button down and leaving only a tank, Mary opened one of the canteens and wet the shirt. She placed one hand gently under his head and holding the homemade wash cloth in the other, she wiped his brow, then down along the cheek and jaw. Bit by bit, the blood and grime were cleaned away, leaving a much more familiar, albeit pale, face behind.

"What on earth happened to you?" she whispered into his ear. "What kind of trouble did you get mixed up in?"

Mary shivered and her attention was drawn from Marshall to the long, darkening shadows surrounding them as the sun dipped behind the mountains. Dusk was upon them, as well as an early evening chill. _Crap! It'll be dark soon. _Grabbing her kit, she pulled out the solar blanket, matches and candle before removing the same items from Marshall's box. From under her pant leg, she pulled a small, but powerful LED flashlight, her phone and her gun.

"Damn it, Marshall! Of all the times to pick to teach me a lesson…" No SIM card. _How the hell did he manage that one? _

"And let me guess, no bullets either?" Mary growled as she checked her weapon. "Shit."

Checking Marshall's shirt pockets and finding nothing, she moved on to his jeans, searching for the missing SIM card and ammo. The front pockets empty, she carefully slid her hands underneath him to check the back pockets, but couldn't feel anything. Knowing her partner the way she did, it didn't surprise Mary not to find either one.

The cell phone picking up a signal had been a long shot at best, but Mary still lamented the inability to try. How were they going to find their way out? Even with help, she doubted Marshall's ability to make it on foot. And the idea of leaving him…

_You need to make it through the night first. Concentrate on now. _

Having the solar blankets for warmth, Mary preferred not to make a fire. There wasn't enough wood readily available to last the night and even if she went for more, the idea of having to worry about tending to the fire was less than appealing, but the idea of being blinded by the dark didn't thrill her either. _Moonlight…we need moonlight. _The sky was clear enough, but Mary had no idea about the lunar cycle. There were rare nights when the stars caught her attention and overnight road trips when she marveled at how the moon lit up the desert, but as far as whether there'd even be a moon…clueless.

"Wake up, doofus," Mary cooed as her hand caressed his cheek. "I need that big brain of yours." She was torn between wanting him to open his eyes and letting him rest. If she could just look into those baby blues, she'd be able to tell if he was going to be okay. And more importantly, Marshall would know she was there…that he wasn't alone. But, a few taps to the face and gentle nudges made it obvious he was not waking anytime soon.

Gathering everything at her fingertips, Mary placed her hands on Marshall's shoulders and eased him forward, slipping behind him so that her back was against the tree and her partner lay in her arms, his head against her shoulder. Leaning forward, she placed one solar blanket around her shoulders and then the other over Marshall, cocooning them from the outside elements. Feet on the ground and legs bent slightly at the knees, she surrounded him protectively, slipping an arm around his waist and intertwining their fingers. Her other hand was in his hair, long fingers tenderly running through the locks.

As darkness descended around them, Mary was thankful not to be claustrophobic. Concentrating on the rise and fall of Marshall's chest, she slowed her breathing to match. _In, out, in, out…_

"_Marshall?" Mary questioned sleepily, rubbing her face as she lifted her head to find her partner gazing down at her. "What are you doing in my bed?" Looking at him oddly, she wondered why he was glowing red. "Am I dreaming?"_

_Stifling a laugh, it escaped more like a snort as a smile graced his lips. "So when did you start dreaming about me, Mary?"_

_Seeing her confusion, he clarified in a voice that softly soothed her. "This isn't your bed. We're in a motel room. You hit your head and I didn't think you should be alone."_

_It was then she realized that it wasn't Marshall glowing, but the neon lights that illuminated the parking lot just outside._

"_I fell," she said, reaching her hand to the bandage on her head. _

"_Yes." Marshall sat patiently waiting for her to piece the puzzle together. _

"_Dawson!" Mary exclaimed, sitting up quickly. Her mind conjured up images of their idiotic witness that decided to blog the details of the murder he'd witnessed. "That son of a…." Her sentence cut short as the room began to spin._

"_Mary?" Marshall called, growing concern in his voice as she wavered. _

_Placing her hands on the bed, she steadied herself, but didn't answer._

_Marshall scooted from the bed and headed to the bathroom, returning a few seconds later with a damp wash cloth. Sitting back down, he corralled Mary to him, her head coming to rest under his chin. _

_The cloth felt cool against her forehead and she closed her eyes as she relaxed into Marshall. The steady rise and fall of his chest underneath her and the feel of his breath in her hair instantly calmed her nerves. Refusing to overanalyze what she was feeling, she pushed aside all thoughts as they lay listening to the low hum of the air conditioner._

"_Feeling better?" Marshall asked after a long while, his chest rumbling as he spoke._

"_Mmhmm," Mary responded, realizing she must have moved or made a sound to indicate she was awake._

"_Good." Reaching up, he brushed her hair out of her face before attempting to extricate himself. "I'll let you get some sleep."_

"_Wait." Her hand on his arm stopped him._

"_Do you need something?" Covering her hand with his own, he searched her eyes. _

"_I…you…stay?" _

The slight stirring startled Mary. Blinking, her eyes adjusted to the soft glow of moon light that permeated the forest floor. _What time is it? Did I fall asleep? _Not knowing the answers to those questions, her attention turned to Marshall and his unintelligible mumblings.

"Are you awake?" her hushed voice asked as she once again ran a hand through Marshall's hair.

More incoherent babble filled the air as Mary attempted to find some meaning within it all. Mary heard the name Jesse and something about a ranger as Marshall grew more and more agitated. Afraid he'd hurt himself, or lash out at her unknowingly, she attempted to calm him with words of comfort.

"Mary," Marshall uttered, stilling.

"It's me, Marshall. I'm here," she reassured him as she wrapped her arms around him snugly.

"Dead…can't believe…dead."

"Doofus, no one's dead. I'm here, you're here and we're gonna be fine."

"Nuh uh, not fine. Dead." Marshall paused and shifted, squeezing her hand more tightly. "Dead 'n Mary'z gonna kill me."

Realization dawned and her lips curled into a smile.

"That's right, bub," Mary teased. "You even think about going and dying on me and I'll kill you myself."

"Mary…"

"Shh…I'm here. Go back to sleep."

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_**Awww! Our dynamic duo are back together, but it doesn't necessarily mean they are out of danger. **_

_**Keep those amazing reviews coming. They make me smile and the muses cooperative. **_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So...this chapter may be a smidge shorter than the previous ones, but I think it holds its own. And let me just say again, you guys are awesome. Thanks for all the reviews.** **And just an fyi, ff must have inhaled caused it's acting wonky. Sorry if formatting is a little off.**

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**"One of the hardest things in life is to have words in your heart that you can not utter."**

**-James Earl Jones**

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Morning dawned in Gila, the wilderness coming to life in the soft yellow and orange hues of the sunrise, but the pain emanating from Marshall's ankle prevented him from enjoying the scene as it unfolded in front of him. Lifting his right hand to rub his face, the solar blanket slipped lower, catching his attention. Confused, he looked down at it curiously, wondering how it had gotten there when he noticed the arm wrapped protectively around him, the hand linked with his own.

Mary's hand.

_No. It can't be._

Heart beating faster, Marshall refused to believe it could be true and was convinced he'd moved beyond hallucinations to downright delusional. So many times he'd thought he'd seen her, tried to reach out to her to find no one there. Free hand trembling, it hesitantly hovered over her arm, afraid that she'd disappear under his touch. Making contact, he sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. Skin soft and warm, she was real…she was there…holding him. Tears of stress, mental and physical, and repressed emotion welled up behind his lids; one lone drop escaped, trailing down his cheek.

Marshall was faltering and he fought not to break down. Wiping away the remaining tears before they could fall, he concentrated on Mary; her breath on his neck, arms protectively around him. It was going to be okay…**they **were going to be okay. Nerves settling, he relaxed into her, longing to stay in the moment for as long as possible. _I may never be this close to her again._

A small groan roused Marshall from contentment and his eyes blinked open to the sunshine streaming through the trees as it rose above the mountain peaks. The pain had grown steadily worse since he'd regained consciousness, but not wanting to wake Mary, he'd lain still, ignoring his ankle and reveling in their closeness. The movement of her head and the small noises uttered indicated that she was now awake, body paying the price for a dirt nap up against a rough fir.

"I'm awake," he croaked. Marshall's intent had been to set Mary's mind at ease, reassure her movement would not disturb him. Unfortunately, his voice, weak and raspy, took them both by surprise and Mary went rigid underneath him. _So much for appeasing her concerns._

An attempt to clear his throat made matters worse, resulting in a hacking cough that set his throat on fire. Marshall leaned forward, chest aching with each jolt and he felt Mary's loss as she moved from behind him. Squatting to his side, she placed a hand on his back and rubbed in a small circular motion. The torture eventually subsided and Marshall recalled just how long it had been since his last drink.

"Water," he wheezed.

"Oh God, yeah…yeah, it's right here." He could hear the self-flagellation in her voice as she reached for the canteen. _Why do you always beat yourself up, Mary?_

Hand supporting the back of his head, she lifted the canteen to his mouth with the other, the sound of the water as it sloshed inside was like music to his ears. The first small sips didn't make it past his cotton mouth and cracked lips; the cool wetness was like heaven. However, what seemed a taste of paradise quickly deteriorated into an agonizing hell as he forced down what felt like sandpaper scraping the sides of his throat. Wincing, he began to pull back – torn between the relief and the pain – logic and training instructing him not to overindulge.

Mary picked up on his motion and eased the container back, capping it with a twist. Marshall fixated on a small tear in his jeans, right above the knee; his mind faintly registering the rattle of the chain, metal clanking against metal. When she set the canteen on the ground between them, he let his focus rise. And for the first time since they had parted ways, hurt and angry, Marshall met Mary's gaze.

Green eyes looked at him cautiously… questioning, needing to know that he was okay. Lips pressed together and jaw clenched to quell the rising emotions, he nodded hastily as he watched her. Eyes, now glistening with unspoken sentiment, held his; so full of sadness and regret, joy and…love? Yes, it was there; of that, he had no doubt. But was it enough to overcome her fears? To take that leap of faith? Her uncertainty was the only thing Marshall could be sure of and it caused his heart to both soar and break all at the same time.

"Mar-"

Placing his fingertips to her lips, Marshall silenced Mary before her voice could betray her…

…and reduce them both to tears. They were not going to have this conversation, not here…not like this. He was hurt and they were both beyond exhaustion, leaving emotions exposed and raw. Removing his fingers, he dropped his hand to hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze before turning his attention to his injured limb. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mary lift her hands to wipe the moisture from her eyes and then proceed to open up her kit and collect herself.

"Take this," Mary said, handing him the antibiotic tablet from her kit. "And then you're going to tell me what the hell happened to you."

xxxxx

"Jeeesus, Marshall," Mary bemoaned after hearing his tale. "Leave it to you to go off for a little hike and get mixed up in a mess like this." Remaining cross-legged in the dirt, she shook her head and picked up the twig she'd been playing with while he spoke. Throwing it, she couldn't believe what a clusterfuck this trip had turned out to be. "And you sure you haven't seen or heard anything from this Jesse since you fell?"

"I'm sure," he stated without hesitation. Then he added in a sarcastic tone, "Well, unless they stumbled across me while I was passed out face first in the dirt in which case..." His voice trailed off, punctuated with a shrug.

_Joking? Is he joking? _Mary didn't find any humor whatsoever in the situation and she made that clear as she glared at him. _Really?_ If it hadn't been for the relief she still felt…the fact that he was okay – well, as okay as a man stuck in the wilderness with a cracked ankle could be - she would have called him a dumbass and cursed his twisted sense of humor all the back to Albuquerque. But as it was, there were still bad guys on the loose and they had yet to figure a way out.

_The SIM card! _

Jumping up, she grabbed the phone from where it sat among their few supplies at the base of the tree and waved it at Marshall.

"Where is it?" He looked at her like she was growing a second head. _Breathe. He's hurt; the brain cells are still waking up. _Mary was well aware that patience was not one of her virtues, but in this case, she was trying. Her voice slow and calmer, she explained. "The SIM card, Marshall. You took it out of my phone before we arrived at the park. Where is it?"

_C'mon Marshall!_

There it is….that spark…the look he gets when -_ he gets me_.

Hands on his chest over his front shirt pockets, he paused…only an instant, before his right hand was slipping inside the waistline of his pants to the left of the god awful belt buckle.

"Oh for God's sake," Mary cursed. "Tell me it's not in your underpants."

A crooked grin shot in her direction and Mary growled.

_That grin! _She hated that grin. The flutter in her stomach was right on cue, revealing the real reason behind her abhorrence. It made her feel all warm and gooey inside and ignited a physical reaction to her partner that made her go weak in the knees. One of these days, she was going smack to it right off his face because if she didn't…

"Mary!" Marshall's voice broke into her consciousness as he held the small, square piece of plastic out to her. Inquisitive, blue eyes searched her face and Mary suddenly felt very exposed.

Heat rising in her cheeks, she snagged it from his hand as she turned away, already working to open the back of the phone. Mary could feel his eyes boring into her back while she fumbled with the damn thing. _You're acting like a teenage girl with some silly crush. This is Marshall for Christ sake! _After a deep breath to regain her composure, the SIM was in place and the back of the phone secured.

Staring at the screen, she willed the antenna to appear with every fiber of her being.

_C'mon…c'mon!_

_Damn it! _

Mary dropped the hand with the phone to her side and ran the other through her hair, defeated. This was not good; there was only one option and it was the one thing she **did not** want to do. The tension in her shoulders now added to the aches from the night before and she shifted on her feet, hand moving to the back of her neck. _Fuck!_ Eyes looked up into the tall trees, through the branches, to the sky beyond; anywhere, other than at the man awaiting her patiently. She was not doing a good job of hiding her disappointment and even when not at his best, Marshall could read her like no one else.

_Tell me not to go, Marshall…not to leave you alone. _

Turning to face her partner, Mary could see the resignation on his face. Sitting there, quietly confident, he offered her a slight nod of support. He understood what had to be done; no pros or cons to weigh, no decisions to be made.

* * *

**Reunited and it feels soooo goood...okay, I know I can't sing. Go, quick, review and I'll shut up!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: You guys rock, you really do. The reviews have kept me going, so thank you. And I'm doing my best to get the chapters up as quickly as possible, especially now that we're near the end. **

* * *

**"You've spent your whole life running and running, trying to catch up with something that has never been there for you. And all you've done is go farther and farther away from the precious love that's been waiting for you all the time."**

**-unknown**

* * *

Alone once more, Marshall sat up against the tree, restless, aching and worried, thoughts on the woman whose loss he felt acutely. Knowing there were no other options, they hadn't discussed it. Silently, he'd offered Mary support and encouragement, setting aside his own trepidations. She was stressed enough; he had seen it and done his best to add some levity to the situation whenever possible.

Looking at his watch, Marshall noted the time. Two hours, thirty-seven minutes and twenty-one seconds since she'd turned and sprinted off toward the closest elevation as he sat there watching…helpless.

"_I don't suppose…" Mary queried, holding the gun up for him to see. _

_Marshall responded with a shake of the head, which he could tell his partner was expecting, then clarified the whereabouts of the ammunition in question. "Lockbox…truck."_

"_Here, take it," she said, offering him the weapon. "Keep it within reach."_

"_Gee, thanks." Marshall's tone was dripping with sarcasm as he extended his arm to take it. Hand brushing Mary's, he let it linger as he looked up into her eyes. She didn't want to go, not if it meant having to leave him behind. He was doing his best to reassure her since there really was no other option, but the truth was…he didn't like the idea any more than she did. "Any bears show up, I'll be sure to throw it at them."_

"_You do that, smartass," she tossed back. "In the meantime, if __**someone **__shows up, he'll have no way of knowing that that gun isn't loaded." Marshall knew damn well who she meant by someone and couldn't fault her logic. _

"_And what happens if you come across our friends? Maybe you should just hang on to it." Hands still touching, the gun held jointly by both as they each urged the other to take it._

"_I can move, run, if I need to. I'll be fine, so just take the damn thing already." And with that, Mary dropped the weapon into his hand and pulled hers away, the topic no longer open for discussion._

_Tucking the weapon under his shirt, Marshall observed Mary, interest piqued, as she set aside the solar blankets and began removing the straps from the canteens. If she knew he was watching, she chose to ignore him. Once the straps from two of the containers were free, she went to work on the blankets. With one placed on top of the other, she began folding them up together until it became a long strip about 3 inches wide. One last fold and it was half its length. Repositioning at Marshall's feet, her intent became clear._

_Anxious, Marshall shifted as the nausea set in. He'd had no idea Mary knew how to make a splint. The question of her abilities wasn't enough of a distraction, though, and he felt the sweat begin to bead on his forehead. It was necessary, he knew, but that fact did little to make him feel better and he wondered if Mary would be willing to knock him out first…clock him over the head so that he wouldn't have to deal with the pain. No, he couldn't put her in that position, it wasn't fair. _

"_Hey, Florence Nightingale, what did you do with my partner?" Marshall asked, again using humor as a coping mechanism._

"_If you'd rather, funny man, I can leave it." Elbows on her knees as she squatted, Mary regarded him, more annoyed than amused. "And instead of being able to stand up and walk with the crutch, you can just sit here the entire time I'm gone and piss your pants." Her right arm moved from her leg and picked a small, but thick, stick and handed it to Marshall. "You're gonna want to bite down on that."_

"_You wouldn't just be trying to shut me up now, would you?" he asked with a nervous laugh._

_Mary's glare was enough to get him to stop talking, but not before mumbling something about Nurse Ratched. The wood securely between his teeth, he braced himself and nodded for her to proceed. _

_Moving quickly, so as not to prolong the torture, Mary placed her hands on each side of his ankle and straightened it. Marshall went rigid and hands balled into fists. His jaw tight and neck muscles bulging, he bit down and stifled an agonizing cry. She wrapped the homemade splint from one side of his ankle to the other and secured in place with the canteen straps. The entire process took less than a minute, but both would have sworn it was much longer. _

"_I'm sorry, Marshall," she said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Take a minute before I finish up."_

"_No," he choked out after removing the stick. "Just do it…finish." Searching his eyes, wordlessly she sought confirmation of the words he had uttered. Then, closing his eyes, Marshall hung his head. _

_Despite his request, she let him stay that way, taking a moment herself to regroup. It was the sound of the condom wrapper opening a few moments later that caught his attention and he looked up._

"_Now!" he gasped incredulously, letting out a hard laugh as Mary eyed him, confused. "My ass in the dirt and nursing a broken ankle was definitely __**not**__ how I pictured it." _

_Confusion gave way to shock which waylaid into amusement as Mary's brain connected the dots and she wondered if her partner was delirious. Taking advantage of his distracted state, she filled each condom with a small amount of air and tied them off, readying herself to work fast. _

"_So…how exactly have you pictured it?" Mary inquired with a smirk. _

"_I…uh…" Marshall stuttered as Mary slipped the condoms in place, one on each side between his ankle and the splint to form air cushions. _

_Flustered by the realization of what he'd admitted, Mary was finished before the pain even registered. _

_The supplies were all arranged within arm's reach of Marshall, his crutch on the ground alongside him. Checking for her phone and compass one last time, Mary knew it could no longer be avoided and prepared to leave. She knelt on one knee with her head next to her partner's; hand cupping his right cheek, her lips moved to his left ear. _

"_You are not the only one who's thought about it," she whispered. _

_Then Mary placed her lips on his cheek and held them there; soft, yet firm as Marshall's slid eyes closed and he savored the moment, committing it to memory. _

The words she'd spoken and the feel of her lips was all Marshall had thought about since he'd opened his eyes to see her running away. It had been better that way, not being able to see her face or look her in the eye because if he had… his resolve would have melted away like ice in the desert and he wouldn't have been able to let her go.

Not able to sit still any longer, Marshall grabbed the crutch and with the help of the tree, eased himself upright. He was achy and sore, but it felt good to stand. And he smiled when he noticed that the splint actually seemed to ease some of the pain from his ankle. As he considered an attempt at walking, he heard an all too familiar noise.

Marshall didn't have to turn around to know that a rifle was aimed him and Jesse was holding it.

xxxxx

The sun increased in intensity as it steadily climbed higher in the mid-morning sky, its warmth flooding the wilderness and causing Mary to sweat as she forged ahead. Gaze flicking from the goal of the heights above to her feet as they sped along the trail, her mind remained with the man she had been forced to leave behind.

'_You are not the only one who's thought about it.' _

The words she'd uttered bounced around in her head as Mary turned them over and over trying to comprehend what had led her to make such a rash and bold statement to her partner. While she _could_ back peddle, tell him he misunderstood, the fact of the matter was that she'd spoken the truth. It was a truth, however, that she hadn't yet admitted to herself, so how the hell had she come to admit it to Marshall?

_Now what? _

The line had been crossed, first by Marshall and now by Mary. There would be no more pretending or ignoring it. At some point, most likely sooner than later, the issue was going to come up and a response expected. No, not expected…demanded. Everything she'd felt that day in the office came rushing back to the surface – shock, fear… and hope. Yes, hope. His words had caused her heart to skip a beat as she'd realized that the something she'd longed for, the just right that she'd believed an impossibility actually did exist.

And it had been by her side all along.

Thinking back now, Mary remembered the first twinge of jealousy she'd felt when it came to Marshall, although she didn't recognize it as such at the time. She'd merely dismissed it as justified animosity toward a woman that seemed all too perfect for her partner and, therefore, had to be hiding something.

"_Her name's Calliope," Marshall said with a grin that caused the already brilliant blue eyes to shine brighter._

"_Calliope? What kind of wacky ass name is that?" Mary challenged, having already made up her mind that the woman in question must be some sort of new age freak and not the kind of person her partner, a U.S. Marshal, should be dating._

"_Asks the woman with a mother named Jinx and a sister called Brandi." His tone was one of pointed disapproval that Mary chose to ignore._

"_Exactly, numbnuts; I'm more than qualified to judge. And at what nerdfest did you two meet?" _

"_Why do you do that?" Marshall asked, not hiding his annoyance._

"_What? You wanted me to show an interest; well, this is me showing an interest." Mary paused, taking a sip of coffee as Marshall shook his head."So are you going to tell me or not?"_

"_The point is to actually be interested, not just feign interest to appease another." Marshall set his mug of fresh coffee on the desk and sank into the chair, turning his attention to the papers on his desk. _

_After three years of partnership, Marshall had inadvertently questioned Mary as to whether she had ever taken the time to get to know anything personal about a colleague. The inquiry had come after she'd subjected him to what was becoming quite a saga with her newest non-boyfriend, a ball player with the Isotopes. His punishment was inflicted swiftly as she interrogated him about a woman he'd recently started dating._

"_You know I'm just going to keep at you," Mary said, standing and walking over to lean on his desk. "So why don't you save us both a headache and just tell me." _

"_You want to know, fine, I'll tell you," Marshall replied with all the frustration of an adult trying to reason with a child. But as he started to describe Calli, the woman he'd met at an art gallery opening, an attorney with an environmental non-profit group that had minored in literature and philosophy, his voice grew calmer, softer and he smiled warmly._

_It was a side of her partner that Mary had never witnessed and she found herself growing uneasy, stomach twisting tighter with each new fact he revealed. She doubted that anyone had ever spoken of her in such a way and she couldn't help but wonder how Marshall would describe her if asked. She was not ignorant of the sympathetic glances and rolls of the eyes he received from others in regards to their partnership. Chest tightening, she suddenly felt as if the air was being sucked from the room. _

"_Um…yeah, Marshall, she sounds great," Mary lied when he'd paused for coffee. Looking at her phone, she made up an excuse about being late and bolted, not stopping until she was safely ensconced within the confines of the Probe. _

Mary stopped in her tracks. The whole _Calli _incident had taken place just months before the disaster that was Trina's engagement. The barn and …

_Oh God! How could I have been so completely clueless?_

But the truth was that Mary wasn't clueless. Somewhere deep down she'd known and the situation with Horst had confirmed it. That was the real reason she'd never asked about what had happened with Calli, because if she had, it very well may have forced her to face the truth before she was ready.

_And now…am I ready now?_

Still afraid to face the answer, she shook her head and refocused on the task at hand. Higher up the trail than she realized, Mary checked her phone.

_Thank you God!_

Hitting speed dial, she waited anxiously the two rings it took for Stan to pick up.

* * *

**Oh no! Our bad guy's back and poor Marshall's in trouble again. Don't throw things and I'll promise not to leave you on anymore cliffs!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Well, here we are at the end of our adventure. Finishing a fic is always so bittersweet. Thank you so much to all for reading and for the amazing reviews. Again, a most heartfelt thanks to Bujyo and RJ Lupin's Kat, it honestly wouldn't have been the story it was without you guys. *hugs* **

**Enjoy! And see, no more cliffhangers, just as promised!**

* * *

**"Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you I had no control over."**

**-unknown**

* * *

Help was on the way. Smothering the emotions that threatened to spill over, Mary wiped away the few tears of relief that had evaded her defenses.

"God… who am I, Brandi?" Mary muttered, annoyed at her lack of control. _When the hell did I become such an emotional mess?_

The emotions had always been there, though, thinly veiled below the surface, emerging only when Mary permitted. Locked away, hidden from the world…that was when she let her guard down; exorcised the demons. Jinx had occasionally been allowed to comfort her, but other than her mother, Marshall had been the only other person to witness her so vulnerable.

Collecting herself, she filled her lungs with the fresh mountain air. The time for dealing with feelings, facing truths and making decisions was coming. But right now, Marshall was alone and despite the fact that help was on the way, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that leaving him hadn't been a good idea. If she moved quickly, she'd make it back before midday and hopefully ahead of Stan and his posse of park rangers.

Boots pounding against the hardened earth and rock of the trail, Mary counted her steps – one, two, three; one, two, three – as she timed her breaths accordingly. Focused on her trek, she refused to let her mind wander beyond the goals of returning to Marshall, getting out Gila and of making sure he was going to be okay. Everything else…_well_, everything else was just going to have to wait.

As she reached the end of her descent, the ground leveled to more manageable terrain and Mary picked up her pace. Stopping at the point where she needed to leave the trail and head into the back country, she sat on a rock to rest. The idea of delaying her arrival by even a minute was irksome, but her body demanded refreshment. Canteen in hand, she lifted it slowly and allowed the refreshing liquid to cascade down her throat; cupping her hands, she splashed some on her face.

A cracking sound, like a stick snapping under the weight of a foot, caught her attention. Twisting the cap back on the canteen, she returned it to its place over her shoulder as she listened for any further tells. Senses on alert, Mary knew she was no longer alone. Animal or man? The question loomed as she bent slowly, pretending to tighten her boot straps and scanning the area from behind her lashes.

As Mary stood, she began to turn toward the edge of the forest to her back. Hand moving to her hip, she could feel the bulge from the small knife tucked securely into the front pocket of her jeans.

"Hands where I can see 'em," ordered an unsure, husky voice from behind her, not far off.

Mary's mind raced to sort through the myriad of information Marshall had relayed. Jesse, the leader, was immediately dismissed. The voice did not convey the strength or confidence of the man that her partner had described. There had been a nameless kid and another…Bobby! That was it. Odds are it was one of the two and she liked her chances, as long as being scared didn't make them trigger happy.

Hands in the air, just above her shoulders, Mary put her game face on and turned around to find two men staring back at her. While two made it slightly more complicated, confidently she made her play.

"U.S. Marshal Mary Sheppard," she identified herself with a glare that put the fear of God in most men. "I'm unarmed and I suggest you drop your weapons before this goes any further."

"Holy shit, Bobby," the kid said in a less than hushed voice that Mary could easily hear from her position fifteen feet away. "First a ranger and now a marshal; I don't wanna go to jail."

"Shut it, Joe, I'm tryin' to think," Bobby snapped at the younger man.

"You don't have to go to jail, Joe," Mary interjected as four eyes snapped to hers. "Neither of you do. Just put those guns down and come with me, I'll make sure you're safe. All you have to do is tell me everything you know about Jesse."

"You serious?" Joe questioned.

"Don't listen to her. You can't trust the law. She'll say anything to save her own skin and we'll end up in a cell right next to Jesse. And don't think for a minute that he won't slit your throat while you sleep for ratting him out… 'cause he will."

"Bo-"

"Just shut up!" he yelled, cutting Mary off. "Just shut your trap. You don't got anything of interest to say to us and as you pointed out, we got the guns. So start walking over here, nice and slow."

As Mary began to walk, she took her time, committing all the physical details of each of the men to memory. Approximate age, height, hair and eye color, any distinguishing scars or markings; all catalogued. Next, she assessed their body language. While it was evident that neither of them possessed the skills of a leader, Joe was definitely the weakest link, just as Marshall had described.

"Maybe we shou-"

"No, dammit," Bobby hollered and Joe took a step back. "We're takin' her to Jesse like we were told and let him decide what to do with 'em. Now open your mouth again and I swear to God I'll shut it for ya'."

_What to do with 'em_…_them?_

They had Marshall.

That explained Jesse's absence. Heart racing, Mary knew she had to do something and soon. There was no way Marshall could last long against the likes of Jesse in his condition, but he would try. That's who he was and she could only imagine the hair brain schemes he was cooking up in that head of his.

Bobby moved behind her and told Joe to take her arm.

"All right, get going you two," he told them, shoving the gun into Mary's back. "And I'm watching both of you, so no funny business."

xxxxx

"I was wondering when we'd finally meet," Marshall drawled as he turned to face his captor. "To be honest, I'm a little disappointed it took you this long to find me, Jesse."

"You're awful confident for man that can't walk," Jesse rebuked. Then eyeing Marshall from head to toe he added, "And a bit scrawny to be talkin' so tough."

"Things are rarely what they appear to be." Marshall glared at Jesse, showing no sign of fear or backing down. There wasn't an injury he could imagine that would cause him to succumb to a two-bit hick the likes of Jesse.

"We'll see how tough you are when the boys get back with your girlfriend," Jesse warned. "Mm hmm, that's one fine looking woman. You know, it's really not safe to let your lady go wandering about these woods all on her own."

Marshall smiled wryly, knowing damn well that even without a weapon Mary was more than capable of handling a couple of minions like Jesse's.

"What the hell are you smiling you at, asshole?"

"As I said, things are rarely what they appear to be," Marshall answered smugly.

"Well we'll just see about that, tough guy." Jesse pointed the tip of the rifle toward the ground where Marshall had been sitting. "Now sit your ass back down before I knock you on it."

Easing himself back down slowly, Marshall placed the crutch to his side so that it lay across the survival kit box, obscuring its contents. As he let go of the crutch, he palmed the knife, sticking it in the waistband of his jeans as he adjusted his position on the ground.

xxxxx

Mary set a brisk pace, forcing Joe to keep up with her as Bobby began to fall back, winded and tired. If she was going to make a move, it had to be soon, because eventually Bobby would get wise and force them to slow down.

"Hey Joe," Mary whispered. "I was serious when I said I could help you. It doesn't have to go down like this. You can still come out of this clean."

"Shh! Bobby's gonna blow a gasket if he hears."

"Just think about it. You can walk away a free man. Start over somewhere else and no one ever has to know."

The kid didn't respond or look at her, but Mary could tell by the way he furrowed his brow that he was thinking about it. _One more little nudge should do it._

"Cause right now, you're looking at accessory to murder and the kidnapping of U.S. Marshal. That's twenty-five to life. Twenty-five years, Joe. Is Jesse worth that?"

"What the hell's going on up there?" Bobby shouted. "What are you to talkin' about?"

"I was telling Joe here that I need to make a pit stop," Mary shot back, winking at Joe in an effort to put him more at ease. The entire plan depended on him and if he didn't cooperate, she was going to have to hurt him.

"Well you can forget it. Hold it or piss your pants, but we ain't stoppin'." His attention diverted back to his own progress, Bobby made no comment about them slowing down.

"Listen Joe," Mary began, "in about 30 seconds, I'm going to grab that shotgun you're carrying and knock you to the ground. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay there and I promise to do everything I can to help you out of this mess. But move or try to get in my way...and I'll kill you."

He looked over at her, wide-eyed, as the words had their intended effect. Counting down the final seconds, Mary could only hope that Joe made the right decision.

_Three, two, one…_

Reaching for the gun, Mary knew Joe's decision had been made as he practically handed it over to her. With a body check, she knocked him off balance and he fell to the ground. Bobby, tired and inattentive, was slow to react.

Mary dropped and rolled away from Joe before Bobby could track her and take aim. From her belly, she cocked the gun and fired, sending Bobby to his knees, gripping his shoulder in agony. She was on her feet and recovering his gun in an instant. With Joe's help, Mary dragged Bobby to a nearby tree and removing his belt, she used it to secure him until backup arrived.

"I'm sorry, Joe," Mary apologized, nodding to the other side of the tree. "I made you a promise and I meant it, but until my partner's safe…"

"It's okay, ma'am," Joe acquiesced, removing his belt and taking a seat on the ground. "I understand."

Mary didn't pull his restraints quite as tight. Standing, she looked down at him.

"I'll be back."

xxxxx

The shotgun blast caused Marshall to inadvertently flinch and he cursed his carelessness. _Idiot. Do not give him any ammunition. Mary's fine because if she wasn't… I'd know… I'd just know. _

"Well, looks like maybe we won't be seeing your girl again after all," Jesse chimed. "Shame, I was looking forward to getting to know her better."

A venomous glare in Jesse's direction had the man swallowing hard as an edge, something previously unseen and… dangerous, was now present on his captive's face. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Jesse readjusted his grip on the rifle and wondered what the hell was taking Bobby and Joe so long.

His eyes never leaving Jesse's, Marshall waited.

xxxxx

As Mary neared the spot where she'd left Marshall, she kept low, careful not to alert them to her presence. Obtaining a visual, she saw Jesse standing about 10 feet in front of Marshall; he was slightly off to her left, at approximately eleven o'clock, his right side facing her. Stealthily creeping along, she made her way to the left, so that she could come up behind him and facing her partner.

Making her way closer, Mary saw Marshall's face; dark and dangerous, it was focused on Jesse. That look, rarely brandished, caused her heart to swell with pride and elicited a physical response that nearly had her blushing. Taking pause, she realized that she rarely had the privilege of observing her partner in these situations for it was her job to flank him, cover him, or join him in the fray. As she burned the image in her mind, she caught the almost imperceptible flick of his eyes in her direction.

"Seems to me your boys must've run into a little bit of trouble," Marshall remarked. "That or they realized covering for your sorry ass wasn't worth the risk."

"Shut the hell up," Jesse yelled, agitated and obviously having similar thoughts.

"What's wrong?" Marshall asked, attempting to provoke him. "Afraid you can't trust them? That they might turn you in to save themselves? Cause you and I both know that _whole honor among thieves,_ or _murderers_ in this case, is bullshit."

Enraged, Jesse stalked over to Marshall and put the gun in his face.

"I thought I told you to shut the fuck up!"

_Christ Marshall, what the hell are you doing? _

He had a plan…Marshall always had a plan, but as she watched, Mary couldn't figure out what the hell it might be. She needed Jesse's attention drawn away from her partner, not towards him. A distraction so that she could get a clear shot without worrying about Marshall getting hurt.

A nod.

_What do you want me to do, Marshall? I can't shoot him, not with you right there._

An idea formed as the proverbial light bulb clicked on over her head. Taking a deep breath, she prayed Marshall was thinking the same thing.

"U.S. Marshals," Mary yelled stepping out from behind the tree and aiming the gun she'd confiscated from Bobby at Jesse's head. "Drop your weapon."

Jesse's head whipped around to Mary and she saw the shock register as he stared at her unbelieving. Like the flick of switch, it morphed into rage.

Adrenaline pumping, finger on the trigger, Mary debated her next move. She still didn't like the idea of shooting Jesse while he stood close to Marshall. If Jesse grabbed him or the bullet ricocheted…her finger twitched as she ran the possible scenarios.

Bracing herself for the jolt from the shot, her eyes were drawn to Marshall as his hand reached inside his waistband.

_What the…_

One swift movement and Jesse was on the ground screaming and grabbing at his thigh.

_The knife!_

Running over, Mary grabbed the rifle and tossed it to Marshall. Flipping Jesse onto his stomach, she pulled his arms up high on his back as she dug her knee into a kidney.

"Jesus, Marshall," Mary swore. "I may have to rethink getting into your pants…it's _dangerous_ in there."

Dumfounded, flabbergasted, astonished…Marshall's face as his brain deciphered Mary's words was priceless and she laughed, eyes dancing with amusement.

Recovering in a beat, Marshall grinned at her and the amusement was joined by lust.

Jesse squirmed underneath her grip drawing Mary's attention from her partner and she growled to show her annoyance.

"Fuck this," she spat. And taking the rifle in both hands, she clocked Jesse on the head knocking him out.

"_Well…_that was interesting," Marshall chuckled; grin still wide across his face.

"And you?" Mary exclaimed as she stood up and moved to stand over him. _That grin! I can't take it anymore._ She longed to feel him, to taste him, to know that he was okay…they were okay.

Dropping to her knees so that she straddled his thighs, Mary grabbed Marshall by the collar and looked him straight in the eye. Her heart raced in anticipation as she watched Marshall's eyes go wide. Butterflies in her stomach and a quivering in her groin, she was back on that peak, hovering on the edge of a freefall, ready to take that leap.

"If you're going to keep looking at me like that," she said in a low, sultry voice, "then you'd better be prepared to do something about it."

Closing the space between them, Mary's lips met Marshall's and suddenly they were careening through space and time. Oblivious to the world around them, lips parted and tongues met; hesitant at first, but with increasing urgency as they explored each other. His hands found her hips and pulled her flush to him, eliciting a small moan from the back of her throat as they came together.

Only seconds had passed, or so it seemed, when the low hum of an engine broke through the heady rush and they pulled apart, lips swollen and gasping for air.

Marshall's eyes searched hers; feeling the heat in her cheeks, Mary looked away and began to stand.

_Oh God…what did I do?_

Reaching for her hand, he clasped it in his own to draw her attention. Unsure and terrified, she gazed down at him.

_Breathe… just breathe._ _This is Marshall and it's time to stop running._

As if aware of her struggle, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and smiled up at her warmly.

The hum turned into a roar as the marshals turned to see two ATVs coming towards them. Glancing back at Marshall, Mary's features softened and her smile reached her eyes. A gentle squeeze and she let go of his hand, turning to meet the cavalry. Stan rode shotgun to a ranger on one of the vehicles while a medic accompanied the ranger on the other ATV.

"Mary, Marshall," Stan greeted his inspectors with a nod. "Looks like you had a little trouble here."

"Nothing we couldn't handle, Chief," Marshall dismissed with a shrug.

"Yeah," Mary added sarcastically, "just another day at the office."

"Well, what do you say we get you two out of here?" Stan offered. "Humpty Dumpty here needs to get to the hospital so that leg can be set properly and then you guys can get cleaned up; 'cause seriously, you're both a mess."

"You know, Stan," Mary declared, eyes moving from her boss to Marshall. "I'm finding I never really appreciated just how great messy can be."

* * *

**Well, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed the journey and I would love to hear your thoughts now that we've reached the end.**


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